The Keeper of the Skies

She stood at the edge of the cliff at dusk, the great black eagle balanced on her fist like a secret. The sun was sinking into the sea below, painting everything in shades of fire and farewell. She had no name in any text that survived. But the fishermen knew her. They called her the one who sends birds to find the lost. Every sailor who disappeared into the waters below had a family member who climbed to that cliff and made their offering. She would lift her arm. The eagle would rise. And sometimes, not always, but sometimes, the missing would come home.

Object number

012.05.013